"The Flight of Resilience: A Bird's Journey to Independence" - 4

 "The Flight of Resilience: A Bird's Journey to Independence" 

 4

The older bird, seeing the young bird’s distress, flew to her side. He had watched her struggle for so long, and though his words had been harsh, he knew the weight of her pain. With a gentler tone, he began to speak.

“I know how much you’re struggling,” he said softly. “I know how painful it must be to be separated from your parents, to have your entire world changed overnight. I understand your pain because I’ve been there myself. When I was your age, the world was no different. It doesn’t matter how much you suffer, or what you’ve been through. In the end, all people care about is one thing: the result. No one asks about the struggle behind it.”

He paused, giving her a moment to let his words sink in. Then he continued, “Let me ask you a simple question. If I gave you a fruit, you could eat it right away, couldn’t you? That would be easy. But here’s the truth—you have to find your own fruit. You have to decide how long that fruit will last, and you have to figure out what you’ll eat tomorrow when it’s gone. No one here is going to ask if you’re okay, if you’ve eaten, or how you’re doing. Everyone has their own battles, their own world to deal with. They don’t have time to worry about anyone else’s pain.”

The young bird listened quietly, her tears still wet on her feathers. The older bird’s words stung, but there was truth in them. She had felt the loneliness, the isolation, and the lack of support from those around her. Everyone seemed to be focused on their own survival, just as she was struggling with hers.

“I know,” the older bird continued, “that you feel like you need someone to listen to your pain. But the reality is that no one here wants to share their pain, and they certainly don’t want to hear about yours. Life out here is cruel, and I understand it may hurt when I tell you to do things on your own. But let me ask you—what if I disappear tomorrow, just like your parents? What will you do then? Do you think someone else will come along to give you food, or shelter? You’ve seen how the world is, how people around you behave. Can you expect them to offer you a shoulder to lean on?”

The young bird felt a shiver run through her. The idea of losing the only connection she had left, even if it was strained, frightened her. She had already lost so much—her family, her home—and the older bird’s words hit hard.

“You might feel young and inexperienced,” the older bird said, “but the world doesn’t care. This world is cruel, and it doesn’t see you as young or weak. No matter how much you suffer, the days will keep moving. Some will be good, and some will be unbearably difficult. But those ups and downs—that’s what life is. Surviving the difficult times, finding your way through them—that’s what gives you the strength to live.”

He looked at her, his voice softening but still firm. “I know my words may seem harsh, but one day, you’ll understand why I’ve been like this. I’ve pushed you because I know what this world demands. But even now, I’ll tell you the same thing: you need to go out into this world. Stand on your own. Face its cruelty, its challenges. Find your own identity. Fight for it, and don’t stop until you’ve found it. Only then, when you’ve made your mark, can you return.”

The young bird felt the weight of the older bird’s words. He

had been hard on her, yes, but now she could see a glimpse of the truth behind his toughness. The world truly didn’t care about her struggles—it only asked for results. She realized that the older bird had been trying to prepare her for a world that wouldn’t be kind or gentle, but one that demanded resilience, persistence, and strength.

The young bird wiped her tears, feeling a mix of emotions—pain, fear, but also a small spark of determination. She had been leaning too much on others, hoping for comfort, a helping hand, or just a kind word. But now she understood—if she wanted to survive, if she wanted to truly live, she would need to stand on her own, no matter how hard it was. She couldn’t wait for someone to save her; she had to save herself.

She looked up at the older bird, her heart still heavy but now filled with a new resolve. “I understand,” she said quietly. “It hurts, but I know you’re right. I’ve been holding onto the hope that someone would come and make things easier, but that’s not how this world works. I need to find my own way, no matter how many times I fall. I need to become strong enough to survive on my own.”

The older bird nodded, a faint smile in his eyes. “Good. Now go, find your own path. Remember, the world won’t wait for you, and it won’t be kind. But you have the strength inside you. You just need to believe it, and fight for it.”

With that, the young bird spread her wings and took off into the sky, her heart still aching but her spirit burning with a new purpose. She didn’t know what challenges lay ahead, but she knew one thing—she was ready to fight for her place in the world. And no matter how difficult the journey, she wouldn’t give up. She would find her own fruit, her own identity, and her own strength. Only then would she truly be free.

To be continued....

Pooja Mattapalli